Disclaimer: There's got to be a good reason for why they don't belong to me.
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"His friends must die."

"Sir, do you mean the Mudblood and the son of the Muggle-lover that Potter is friends with?"

"Yes. But especially the girl. When was she born?"

"Um...Master, how will that help?"

"WHEN WAS SHE BORN?!"

"Uh..." The flustered Death Eater gazed around, as if the birth date of Hermione Granger might be flashing in neon on the wall.

Voldemort crossed the room and grabbed his shaking servant by his robe.

"If you do not know," he hissed. "Then go find out. And get the birth date of the boy, too."

The servant scurried out of the room, with Voldemort staring after him.

"That's another I shall have to kill." he remarked to the empty room. He turned and gazing into the fire, his thoughts focusing on a certain fifteen-year-old girl.
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Miles away, Hermione was laughing as Ron returned to normal. He glared at his brothers.

"I ought to hex them for that."

"I dunno, Ron," Harry choked out. "I think you make a very nice rabbit."

"Yes," Ginny giggled. "Pink is definitely your color."

Ron was still fuming.

"Oh, cheer up, Ron," Hermione said. "At least they did this before everyone arrives tomorrow. Besides, now you know to avoid their Watermelon Hops."


This only made Ron angrier and the others couldn't quit laughing. Finally, he joined in, rather half-heartedly.

'After all,' he thought 'I could've been turned into a spider'
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"I have the information, Master."

"When?"

He was handed a copy of a birth certificate and a photo.

"Hermione Elizabeth Granger was born September 8, 1986."

"And the boy?"

"Oh, damn. I forgot." The Death Eater received his master's full glare. "I'll, uh...go find out, right now."

Voldemort wasn't paying attention as the servant fled the room. His gaze was fixed on the recent wizard photo of Hermione that his servant had given him.

"In a matter of days, my little Mudblood," he whispered to the girl that was pushing her hair back as she read a book. "I will go back in time and make sure you never exist. You cannot stand in the way."
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The flickering firelight attempted to illuminate the dark room a few nights later. shadows flickered across Voldemort's face, his red eyes glowing. The Year-Turner glittered as he slipped it over his head.

"Time to go to work." he whispered. He began to turn the tiny hourglass. Over and over. Sixteen times. "I'll see you soon, Potter." he murmured. The next second, the room was empty. The fire died.
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September 1985

Voldemort grinned. He had loved this year. One of his Death Eaters had become the Assistant Minister of Magic.

"Must not think about the past," he muttered. "Or, I should say, the present. I have work to do."

He withdrew another, smaller hourglass from within his robes. It was barely larger than his thumb. A Month-Turner. Another clever invention of his, that not even Wormtail had known about. He'd personally tested it.

Voldemort's eyes gleamed as he turned the Month-Turner forward. He vanished a moment later.
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A/N: Finally! The Past! But we still have the present to deal with as well; don't forget.